


Promises

by autumnsolstice9



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 17:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12753048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnsolstice9/pseuds/autumnsolstice9
Summary: He ignores how his heart feels tight in his chest and how his stomach is in knots. He ignores the burning in his throat and how deep inside, he knows Asahi is done with them. He can feel Daichi’s eyes on him, and wonders how he can hold himself together so well when Suga feels their loss so acutely.He wonders if Daichi feels like his heart is breaking, too.***Basically, just Suga and Asahi working through issues that they have after that match against Dateko (you know the one)





	Promises

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i feel like suga and asahi would have had a lot of issues because suga was obviously really upset about asahi leaving the team but the show never really discussed it. and asahi and suga have this special relationship that i like a lot and kind of wanted to explore.
> 
> I also think a lot of fanwork portrays asahi as more anxious than what he is, so his anxiety isn't really featured in here too much. because this is from suga's pov, his anxiousness is more pronounced because you can bet that boy has some stuff he needs to work through.
> 
> this is a one shot that i wrote so yeah uh keep that in mind. unbeta'd so sorry for any mistakes.

The first time Suga experiences heartbreak, he is 16 and still naive. He stands in a closet, looking at a broken broom and can’t help but feel small. Tanaka had taken Noya somewhere to relax but Suga remains firmly in place, unable to move out of the supply closet.

He knows he should do something- anything- to help the team. That’s what he’s best at, isn’t it? He’s Suga, the one who is always cheerful, who gives a shoulder for everyone to cry on. He’s Suga, the one who keeps things calm, who knows how to read his team better than anyone else.

He’s Suga, and he kept tossing to Asahi when he shouldn’t have. He’s Suga, and now one of his best friends is gone.

There is a sob working its way through him, but he won’t break. He refuses to, not here, not now. He can cry when he gets home, but for now, the team needs him. He puts the broken broom in the corner, where it can come back and still be of use if need be. He can’t bear the idea of throwing it away, not now when he is a bundled mess of emotions.

Instead it goes in the corner, safe, and Suga turns the supply closet light off and leaves, refusing to look back.

When he makes eye contact with Daichi, he does his best to give a smile, but he knows it comes out all wrong. It feels forced, even to himself, and if anyone can read straight through Suga’s lies, it’s Daichi. _Asahi, too,_ he adds as an afterthought, but thinking of Asahi makes his stomach turn and his gut clench.

Daichi wanders over, slinging an arm over Suga’s shoulders, and gives him a reassuring squeeze. “He’ll come back,” he whispers, “Asahi wouldn’t just leave us.”

Suga knows that isn’t true, knows that the face he saw on Asahi was desperate and looking for somewhere to run to. He knows the self-doubt that plagues their friend, and saw how the iron wall of Dateko made Asahi act like a caged animal. He knows Asahi is gone, but he grasps onto Daichi’s lie.

“He’s our friend,” Daichi murmurs, “he wouldn’t just abandon us. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Suga laughs, harsh and bitter even to his own ears, allowing himself this one moment to revel in his turbulent emotions, and can feel the way Daichi tenses. His eyes sting and he knows he is so close to crying, but he furiously swipes at them.

_It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have tossed to him each time. I knew it was too much, even for him._

He can hear Noya’s shouts from somewhere outside, and steels himself. He is Suga, and right now, people need him. He shoots Daichi the best smile he can, and believes the lies he is told. “You’re right. Asahi wouldn’t leave us.”

He ignores how his heart feels tight in his chest and how his stomach is in knots. He ignores the burning in his throat and how deep inside, he knows Asahi is done with them. He can feel Daichi’s eyes on him, and wonders how he can hold himself together so well when Suga feels their loss so acutely.

He wonders if Daichi feels like his heart is breaking, too.

***

Suga doesn’t cry until he is home and in his room, alone. He sobs and sobs, nose running and ugly noises ripping through him. He can barely see through his tears, but his fingers move quickly through his phone, acting on muscle memory as he scrolls to Asahi’s contact.

He drafts a text, then deletes it. _Please don’t leave us,_ he wants to say. _Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave Daichi, please don’t leave Noya and Tanaka. I’m sorry I pushed you too hard. I’m sorry you think you’re not good enough for us. It’s my fault. I’m sorry._

After what feels like hours of crying, but has probably only been ten minutes, he has run out of tears. The text he has for Asahi is simple, and he knows his friend will be able to read between the lines and find what he is trying to say. He and Asahi have been friends long enough that they can understand the hidden messages the other is trying to say. 

He sends the text, a simple _I’m sorry_ , and waits for a response, praying that his friend answers.

Hours later, when there is still no answer, Suga feels numb.

He cries until he falls asleep.

***

Morning practice is rough for the team, the mood of the entire team is down. And, despite how he feels, Suga knows he has a responsibility to the team, so he plasters on his brightest smile and walks into the gym, ready to cheer people up.

“Come on, Tanaka,” he says, slapping the first year on the back, “let me set for you. We’re winning our next match.”

This is what he does, this is what he is good at. Suga knows he isn’t the best setter, but he has always been able to brighten his team up. He has them look to the future, pushing towards new goals and running after the dream of nationals.

If they look to the future, they don’t have to see how the present is crumbling.

“Hey, Noya, don’t look so distracted,” he chides, “Tanaka is going to spike the ball so hard even you won’t know what happened.”

That perks their libero up a fraction, and as the morning drags on, Suga keeps it going. Pass them compliments, let them have their breaks, keep them moving in the right direction. He does it for them all: for Tanaka, who has always looked up to the now missing ace; for Noya, who felt he let them down; and for Daichi, who can’t hide how hurt he is from Suga.

Suga feels like he is drowning under doubts, under all his faults and the weight Asahi’s absence has put on his shoulders, but for his team, he will remain afloat.

After practice, when Noya comes to cry on his shoulder and yell and scream, Suga lets him. He knows how he feels, how they both feel as if it is their fault that Asahi tore himself apart, but Suga is not blind to the world. He knows that the blame does not belong at Noya’s feet, and he tells him so.

“You did everything you could,” he says, voice soothing, “it’s not your fault. You did what you could and you’re still fighting, and that’s what matters. Not everything is black and white, and you shouldn’t blame yourself. It was a bad game, and we’ll practice until that bad game becomes something we can come back from.” He stares at Noya’s broken face, and he feels his stomach swoop. _I did this to them. I tore the team apart._ “Nishinoya,” he whispers, “it wasn’t your fault. And you might not believe that, but it’s the truth.”

He runs a hand through the first-years hair, sitting in silence for a few minutes before Noya stands up. “Thank you, Suga-san,” he says, quiet in a way he never has been before. Suga waves him off, and opts to stare sunset in the horizon, thoughts still stuck on yesterday and how his failings as a setter led to a missing ace and a broken libero.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by Daichi sitting next to him. “You okay?” the captain asks, genuine in a way the third years have always been with each other, and Suga wants to let him know how he hasn’t been able to get yesterday’s match out of his mind, or how every time he closes his eyes he sees Asahi’s face after his spike gets blocked, or how he has avoided the supply closet all day because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle seeing the broken broom, but nothing comes out. Daichi has enough stress on his shoulders, and Suga has noticed how tight his best friend’s shoulders had been during practice today, how his eyes kept flickering to the door as if he was waiting for Asahi to show up. Suga may have caused this fracture in the team, but he refuses to add to it by worrying Daichi.  
“I’m fine,” he says, unwavering, “but how are you?”

Daichi’s eyes search his, and Suga feels stripped bare under his gaze, but he must have done a good job schooling his features because he doesn’t get any more questions before his friend begins to unload onto him. This is what he’s here for, he is Suga the resolver, and he listens to Daichi voice his fears and concerns before giving advice.

When they get to the crossroads on their way home, Daichi grabs onto Suga’s arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?” The concern in his voice is evident, but guilt is heavy in Suga’s stomach and he can’t stand being handled like glass.

“Dai, he’s not coming back.” Suga whispers, refusing to meet Daichi’s eyes. “If that’s what he wants, them I’m fine with it.”

They both ignore how Suga and Asahi had been a team, how their places on the court reflected their friendship so very well. How Daichi would receive and support them, but that Suga and Asahi were connected through sets and spikes. They both ignore how, when asked about his favorite part of the game, Asahi would always respond with spiking Suga’s tosses. They ignore how Suga was the glue between the three of them, that it was Daichi, Suga, and Asahi, but Suga was closer with Asahi than Daichi ever was.

“It was his choice to leave, Daichi, and I have to respect that.” 

They ignore how the bond between Suga and Asahi was deeper than just friendship, extending to something that was unexplored but strong, and how choosing to leave feels an awful lot like being left behind.

“Suga-” Daichi starts, but he’s stopped before his sentence can even begin.

His lip trembles, and he wants to be able to express himself to his best friend, but he can’t. “It’s fine. It’s his choice. If he wants to leave, who am I to stop him?”

It’s a question that has no answer- Asahi and Suga had never defined who they were to each other besides ‘friend’, but even that was not an accurate descriptor. Suga’s sends a silent message to Daichi, saying that he isn’t ready to talk yet, and his friend picks up on the message.

They don’t mention Asahi to each other again.

***

On his birthday, a week later, Suga sends another text to Asahi. He is surrounded by friends, by people he loves, but the glass-hearted ace is absent, and it makes Suga feel dizzy and as if he can’t catch his breath.

_I miss you_ , he sends, hoping that Asahi will realize Suga needs him not just for volleyball, but also just in his life.

He gets no response.

***

Kageyama and Hinata come into Karasuno in a whirlwind, and when Suga sees the first year’s toss, he knows deep inside that he is no match.

At Seijoh’s practice match, he has no problem letting Kageyama take his place. His kouhai needs practice working with people, and Suga wants their team to be strong.

Besides, tossing to Tanaka and Hinata is fine, but it never feels as right as it did with Asahi.

***

“Should we get rid of this broom?” Hinata asks, holding the broken broom.

He can see Daichi moving forward, ready to take the brook from Hinata, and even Tanaka is silently shaking his head in warning. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are watching the scene with interest, and Kageyama looks utterly confused. 

“No,” Suga says, and he can tell by Daichi’s raised eyebrows that he’s surprised with how even and strong Suga’s voice came out. Suga’s surprised, too. “No, Hinata, it may be broken but it’s still good.”

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are smart enough to realize that the broom means more to him than just a broom, and Daichi’s hand on his shoulder in support is enough to stop him from fleeing the gym, lost in memories of Asahi.

Hinata, while not the brightest, picks up on how tense Suga is and nods once before putting the broken broom back.

This time, when Suga goes home, he does not text Asahi, despite his hands itching to do so. Instead, he scrolls through pictures on his phone of the two of them, wondering if he will ever be used to life without a beard to tug on or an ace to set to.

_I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t come back,_ Suga thinks before he falls asleep, _After all, I set him up for failure._

_I was the one who broke the glass-hearted ace._

***

Noya comes back to the team in a burst of energy, and Suga is overjoyed. This, he thinks, is a step towards recovery. It’s a semblance of normality in a world that has been anything but normal for Suga.

It is quick to change.

“Where’s Asahi?” Noya asks, and Suga’s face twists into something that he’s worked years to prevent escaping, something full of fear and bitterness and guilt, and he feels his stomach clench like it did a month ago when Asahi left. 

“He’s gone,” Suga whispers, but it is so quiet no one hears him, except maybe Daichi who stands by his side and gives him arm a quick squeeze of reassurance.

“Noya, he quit the team,” Daichi says, loud in a way Suga can’t be right now.

Suga can hear Noya rage about how Asahi is a coward, and then he’s saying he won’t play without Asahi there, and Suga feels rage.

He’s angry at Noya for being selfish and refusing to play without Asahi, he’s mad at Asahi for leaving the team, he’s mad at Asahi for leaving _him_ , but most of all he’s mad at himself for causing the break in the team.

He doesn’t voice his anger, opting instead to dig his nails into his arm, and he is sure he’s drawing blood but he is furious and can’t say anything. Noya leaves the gym, and Suga throws himself into the rest of practice. 

When he leaves the gym, Noya is waiting for him. “Has he talked to you at all?” the libero asks, and Suga shakes his head because if he talks, he will break.

Noya eyes him, sharp and uncharacteristically serious, before pulling him into a quick hug. “He’s a coward.”

“Has he talked to you?” Suga whispers into Noya’s neck. Suga and Asahi were friends, and maybe something a bit more, but Noya was Asahi’s best friend like Daichi was Suga’s.

There is no response, and that is answer enough.

“I’m sorry,” Noya says, softer than he has ever been, and Suga nods his head and fights away tears.

“It’s okay, Noya, it’s not your fault.”

After all, Suga’s grown up in a world where he can’t let himself dare to dream. By now, he should be used to broken hope.

By now, he should be used to getting left behind.

***

Suga can remember the first time he had Daichi and Asahi over his house. He was terrified at the idea of what his two new friends would think of him, when they learned about his life.

He was scared they would see him as the unlovable boy he was and run away.

Instead, being the polite boys they are, they didn’t mention how he lived with his aunt and that there was never talk of his parents. They never voiced any thoughts to Suga, never once dared to look at him with pity.

At their first sleepover, Daichi fell asleep first. Suga stayed up with Asahi, talking about anything and everything in that serious way late night conversations become.

“Suga,” Asahi had whispered into the darkness, voice curious but reserved. He knew what question was coming. “Where are your parents?”

It was natural for Asahi to wonder about them, but the question always made Suga feel small and had his heart claw into his throat.

“They left me,” he said when the air in the room became too heavy. “They left me when I was a child. They didn’t want me anymore, so my aunt took me in.”

Asahi hadn’t said a word, only moved in closer to wrap his arms around him and rub small circles into his back.

“I- I don’t know why they did it. Maybe I wasn’t a good child. I don’t know. My aunt never says. We just don’t talk about them.”

He felt a featherlight kiss into his shoulder, and squeezed his eyes shut, fighting off the threat of tears. 

“I’ll never leave you, Suga. I promise.” Asahi had whispered to the space in between them, and it felt real. Suga had opened his eyes to Asahi’s soft eyes, full of concern, without a hint of anxiety.

In that moment, his friend had seemed strong and confident. Suga held onto that promise with all his heart, and vowed to never let go of it. It had felt tangible, like Asahi’s hair when he ran his hands through it, or when he tugged on Asahi’s beard.

It had felt real. It was a promise that he never wanted to see broken.

Now, Suga stares at Asahi’s figure retreating down the hallway, and his heart breaks once again for the boy who believed promises made at midnight.

***

He can hear the fight before he sees it. He can hear Noya’s voice, even louder in its rage, and he lightly laughs. Someone probably looked at Kiyoko for too long.

What he does not expect to hear is Daichi joining in. 

“You can’t expect things to just be okay,” Daichi growls out, and dread floods Suga’s stomach. “You can’t honestly expect everything to be normal. Think of what you’re doing.”

Suga walks faster, his legs carrying him closer to where the voices are hidden behind a wall.

“Seriously!” Noya shouts, “Think of what you’re doing to the team!”

He rounds the corner and stops short when he sees Asahi faced by Daichi and Noya. His chest feels tight when he looks at Asahi, who doesn’t look any different than he did when he last saw him, except for the anxiousness on his face from being confronted.

“Think of what you’re doing to Suga,” Daichi adds in a quiet voice, almost pleading. “Have you thought about what this is doing to him? Remember your promises, Asahi.” 

Suga can tell the moment Asahi sees him, because his eyes widen and his mouth parts. His eyes are filled with something that looks like sadness, and his arm starts to move out as he takes a step forward.

“Just. Come back already.” Suga says, voice stiff, before he walks away to join the rest of the team in practice.

***

When Asahi rejoins the team, Suga is happy. He really is, but part of him still feels carved out.

He tosses to him still, and the rush that fills him when the ace spikes the ball is familiar, but something is missing. He thinks he should be happier to have Asahi back, that his friend is no longer ignoring him, but he still feels hollow.

On the day Noya explodes, shouting the guilty feelings he has out into the world, yelling that it was his fault Asahi left in the first place and that he won’t let it happen again, Suga feels guilt claw at him again because he knows it’s _his_ fault Asahi left. He was the one who put too much pressure on the ace, who didn’t change his tosses, who did nothing to help fight against Dateko.

He stays silent and edges out of the circle, escaping to the bathroom to splash water on his face.

It’s been a month but he hasn’t been able to evade the guilt and desperation that eats him from the inside out. Every time he looks at Asahi, he is scared. He is so scared that he will hurt his friend again, that he will put too much pressure on a boy with a glass heart, that Asahi will forever hate him for what he’s done.

He hears the bathroom door open, and for a second he wishes it’s Asahi coming for him, to help talk through Suga’s anxiety like they used to do before everything went wrong. He both hopes and fears that it’s their ace, coming to finally have the conversation they need to have.

It’s Yamaguchi, and Suga feels his chest uncoil before he nods to the younger boy and leaves the bathroom to continue on with practice.

***

They fall back into friendship, but Suga can’t help but think that it feels off.

He, Daichi, and Asahi still walk to and from practice together. He teases Asahi, tugging on his beard and calling him out for his negativity. They are the golden trio once again, but still, it feels wrong.

He and Asahi no longer talk to each other one on one. They don’t invite each other over to hang out and play videogames. Suga still hangs out with Daichi alone, and sometimes the three of them go out together, but it’s never just Suga and Asahi.

Part of him wants to ask Asahi to come over for a movie, but each time he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. He isn’t sure why, but somewhere deep inside he doesn’t want to push too hard. So he says nothing, never bridging the gap that has grown between them.

It’s hard not to notice the way Asahi’s hands fiddle with the strap of his bag on their walks, or how he becomes twitchy if Suga comes too close, but he doesn’t mention it. He wonders if Asahi feels the distance between them as acutely as Suga does. Maybe he’s read too much into their relationship. Maybe he was the only one to feel _something_ deeper. Maybe he was the only one who thought they were both standing on the precipice of a cliff, ready to fall together.

Lately, Suga feels as though he’s been falling alone, stuck plummeting in an endless sky. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was meant to fall with Asahi, but instead he is reaching terminal velocity scared and alone.

The last time he felt this way, he was five and just a little boy staring out the window of his aunt’s house, waiting for parents that would never come back for him.

***

He knows Daichi and Asahi must have heard him talk to Coach Ukai in the hall, telling him that he wants Kageyama to play if it means Karasuno gets another victory.

Suga feels like he is in pieces. He is so used to stepping down so others can step up, but this hurts him more than expected. It’s like a knife to the gut, but he keeps a smile on his face so nothing seems amiss.

He is 17, and he is being replaced. He now understands Oikawa’s relentless drive, and he immediately decides to be as dedicated as Seijoh’s captain, but not today, when his emotions still feel raw and he just wants to go to sleep.

So when Daichi comes up to him and embraces him in a tight hug, he hesitates only a second before wrapping his arms around his best friend and shoving his face into his shoulder.

“We’ll win, Suga,” he whispers, “we’ll get to nationals, and you’ll be there every step of the way.”

When Daichi eventually pulls away, Suga feels a familiar hand on his shoulder.

Asahi.

“Toss to me,” Asahi tells him, the most confident he’s ever seen the ace as, “send it to me and I won’t let you down. I promise.”

Suga wants to believe it but he’s had promises broken before, and he still has memories of tossing to Asahi and leading the team to failure fresh in his head. But here Asahi is, closer than they have been in a month, and all Suga can do is nod his head.

In a low voice, Asahi adds, “I missed you, Suga,” and it doesn’t make up for anything that’s happened between them. It doesn’t forgive the ignored texts, the way they both avoided each other since Asahi came back onto the team, and it certainly doesn’t ease the guilt Suga feels wrapped around him.

But it’s a start.

“I missed you, too,” Suga whispers before pulling Asahi in for a bone crushing hug. “Please, please, please don’t leave me again. Please.”

His eyes are squeezed shut so he can’t see the face Asahi is making, or how Daichi looks from where he stands in the outskirts of their bubble, but they both know him, know his past, and know how he still has nightmares of being left behind.

He only hears a soft, “Oh, Suga,” before he feels Asahi squeeze him even closer, if that’s possible.

When he pulls away, he sees Daichi watching them with a small smile on his face, and he remembers all those weeks ago when he caught Daichi and Noya confronting Asahi.

_“Think of what you’re doing to Suga. Have you thought about what this is doing to him? Remember your promises, Asahi.”_

Suga is so thankful for his best friend who has always been one step ahead, figuring out the jumble of his emotions before Suga himself did.

“Thank you,” he mouths to him, and when he gets a light punch on the arm in response, things begin to feel right again.

Asahi with a hand on his shoulder, Daichi standing next to him, and everything in the world, for just a moment, feels right.

***

When Asahi comes to Suga, wringing his hands in front of him and chewing on his bottom lip, asking if Suga wants to hang out after volleyball, there is no hesitation.

“I’d love to.”

***

It’s at yet another sleepover- this time just Suga and Asahi- that they finally have that talk. Both are running on the high sleepovers always seem to bring, when the dam breaks.

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” Suga whispers into the darkness.

“What do you mean? I answered it this morning.” Asahi responds, genuine confusion in his voice.

“No, that’s not what I meant. When you left the team. I texted you. And you never answered. Why?”

“I, uh, I didn’t know what to say. I just… didn’t know what to say to you.”

Suga can barely make out Asahi fidgeting in the dark, but he knows that the ace’s anxiety must be ramping up. But they’ve always been honest with each other, entrusting their secrets and feelings with each other, so Suga presses forward.

“You texted Noya, and I know that’s different. He’s your best friend, but I thought that maybe. I thought…” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence. He thought he was special to Asahi, in a way different from Noya, just like Asahi was special to him in a way different than Daichi.

Asahi doesn’t need him to finish the sentence. They’ve always understood each other, both of them so used to battling insecurities and anxiety that it only seem natural they know what the other thinks.

He feels Asahi’s hand grasp onto his, warm and strong.

“Was I wrong to think that?” he asks, giving Asahi’s hand a squeeze, searching his eyes for the truth.

“No,” Asahi responds, pressing a featherlight kiss to his forehead. “No, you weren’t wrong. Never.”

When they wake up in the morning, their hands are still entwined.

***

The court is stifling, and Suga knows he only has one toss left before he is switched out for Kageyama. Asahi must know it too, because the ace comes up to him with a determined look.

“Toss it to me,” he says, more serious than he has ever been in a game before. “I’ll get it across.”

And so he does, the ball soaring through the air to Asahi, 100% faith in the ace.

When the ball slams across the other side gaining Karasuno a point, Asahi shoots him a large smile. Inside Suga’s chest, something swells and grows, something he has associated with the ace for over a year now.

He doesn’t want to define it, fearful that putting it into words will give it the opportunity to be stolen away, but he thinks it’s something a lot like love.

***

They’re lying on the grass in a park when Asahi asks Suga why he apologized. “That day, when I left the team, you texted me saying you were sorry. What were you sorry for?”

Suga chews his lip before answering, lost in thought. “I was the reason you left. I shouldn’t have kept tossing to you. I could see how Dateko’s wall made you feel, and yet I kept tossing. I was the one who put the pressure on you. I was the one who let the team down. I was the reason you left.”

Asahi immediately sits up. “Do you really think that? It’s not true at all. Dateko was just stronger. It’s taken me a really long time to realize that, but I know it now. They were stronger then, but we’re stronger now.”

“I still shouldn’t have kept tossing to you. I should have tried something different, like Kageyama would have.”

A shadow falls over him, and he looks up to see Asahi looking down at him. With the sun behind him, Suga thinks he looks almost like a painting. 

“Suga,” Asahi says, leaning in towards him, “you’re not Kageyama. You never will be, the same way Kageyama will never be Oikawa. You’re you and I’m glad you tossed to me.” He is close enough that strands of loose hair are tickling Suga’s face. “It’s not your fault. It never was. I would rather have you toss to me than anyone else in the world.”

There’s a pause, and all Suga can do is stare at Asahi and take a sharp breath, and then he is threading his hands into Asahi’s hair and pulling him down to kiss him, slow and sweet and new.

He pulls away to ask if it’s okay that they’ve crossed this line in their relationship, something they’ve always been on the edge of but never explored, but before he can even form the words, Asahi is pulling him back in for another kiss.

Minutes later, when they break away from each other to hold hands and lie in the grass, staring at the sky, Suga feels peaceful, more than he has in a long time. Asahi is getting fidgety next to him, so he turns and pulls on his beard. “Hey, don’t be so worried. It’s okay. Things will be okay.” He’s not even saying it just to calm Asahi- he truly believes it.

He remembers that promise from what feels like forever ago. _I’ll never leave you._

In this moment, it feels true. It feels true and Suga is still falling off the edge of the cliff, but this time Asahi is with him, holding his hand as they descend towards the ground.

He is falling, and the ground is still so far away, but he is not alone.

He is not scared.

**Author's Note:**

> okay yeah so i added stuff in about suga's life that isnt necessarily canonical! oops. but im not sorry.
> 
> anyways talk to me about how my boy asahi highkey h8s how suga isnt on the court more often and how much he loves suga bc its obvious whether its platonic or romantic they love each other!!!!!!
> 
> it was so hard to not make this a daisuga thing but nah i need that asasuga!!!!!!!


End file.
